The Doctor and the Master
by Three Rejects
Summary: Many remember the Vault Dweller and how he saved the wasteland from the Master and his super mutant army. Many others also remember the mysterious Doctor that was also active in the region at that time.
1. Prologue: Zeta, Eta, Theta Sigma

**The Doctor and the Master**

**Prologue: Zeta, Eta, Theta Sigma.**

Sound doesn't carry in space, but it sure does in time. If there were people in the time vortex to hear it, they would have described it as a thundering sound as the monstrous behemoth of a spaceship sped through, closely followed by a blue box that tumbled from side to side to avoid fire from its target.

Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor watched the monitor intently and bit his lip as he waited for the opportune moment to pull the handle his right hand rested on. The ray gun on the underside of the gigantic saucer began to light up as it charged again. He pulled the handle as hard and as suddenly as he could, and the TARDIS once again lurched to the side, avoiding a devastatingly powerful blast from the alien ship.

"HA!"

He allowed himself to grin, and ran around to the other side of the console to hit some more buttons and levers, before quickly rushing back around to check the monitor again. The saucer turned around, pointing the main gun in almost the opposite direction of the TARDIS. This was because it had been travelling backwards through the vortex until this point, firing on the Doctor. Now it was done fighting, and was running away full pelt.

"No, no, no, NO!"

They weren't getting away that easily. He had promised to bring those people back safe.

"Come on, old girl. Don't give out on me now..." he muttered.

The TARDIS shot forwards through the vortex again as the Doctor stepped on the throttle. The worried inhabitants of the alien saucer began firing their smaller weapons at them as they approached, but none posed quite the same level of threat as that death ray. As they came closer, the engines of the ancient time machine began to groan, and it dematerialised near the hull of the ship.

* * *

The Doctor ran for the doors and casually threw on his brown trench coat as he swept them open and stepped outside. He then stopped abruptly as he realised that he had emerged straight onto the bridge, and found several dozen angry-looking aliens pointing guns at him. They were all yellowish green humanoids in white uniforms, with bald heads, completely black eyes, and a height roughly comparable to a sontaran's.

Actually, their unamused glares were also very sontaran-esque. They even had three-fingered hands.

One of them standing near the window of the ship approached him. His uniform was silver, unlike the regular white colouring of all the others. He was likely the one in charge of this operation, possibly the captain. Unlike the others, who were all threatening him with high tech rifles, the Doctor noted that the alien captain was just using a sidearm.

"_Doctor_," he hissed, with loathing, "You've wasted _so much _of our time."

"Yeah, well..." The Doctor shrugged. "Sorry."

"_Sorry_?! You've set our experiments back _decades_! This universe's inhabitants could have been the key to our race's survival, and you just _ruined _it!"

"And for that, I really am sorry, but the people of Station Gemini Fourteen are _not _yours to experiment on. You can find another way to survive. You don't need to do this, and I won't _allow you_ to do this."

The captain narrowed his eyes.

"So be it."

He lowered his pistol and turned his back to the Doctor.

"Kill him."

The Doctor winced, but did not move, as the aliens discharged their energy weapons. Beams of light flew at him, but fizzled out and disappeared before they reached him. They all lowered their weapons and stared in confusion. A few took the initiative to begin checking them for sabotage, not putting it past him to have somehow tampered with their weapons before even boarding the ship.

The captain meanwhile turned around slowly, his eyes widening again as he saw that it had not worked. The Doctor simply grinned at him.

"Extrapolator shielding," he explained, "Good enough to stop daleks. Good enough to stop you."

Well, _some _daleks anyway, but there was no need to tell them that.

"Grrr..."

"You aren't getting past these shields, so you may as well just listen to me-"

"NO! I will NOT! Words are your weapons, Doctor, and I would never let an armed foe aboard my ship! We may not be natives to your universe, but don't make the mistake of thinking that we're ignorant to your history!"

"Well, if you know my history, then you know what you're up against, captain...?"

"Ruzzgar."

"Captain Ruzzgar. I'm giving you one chance. Just one. Stop this right now, or I'll stop it myself."

The furious alien stepped right up to the edge of the extrapolator shield and looked the Doctor in the eyes. As he did, he smiled.

"Do it then. I dare you."

The Doctor opened his mouth to respond, but then was interrupted.

"Captain, we're entering home space now," reported an alien at a control console, "Establishing contact with Zeta."

"Switching to main power!"

"Exiting vortex!"

The Doctor's expression betrayed his surprise, and Ruzzgar's sly smile grew ever wider.

"Time's up, Doctor."

The entire ship shook suddenly, as the view from the windows at the front of the bridge switched from the swirling colours of the time vortex to the blackness of space. In the corner of their view below them, an identical alien ship could be seen. It was floating above a dull looking planet with a green ocean, mostly brown landmasses and for some reason a strange circle about the size of a continent that looked like it was either reflecting light from the sun or glowing brightly.

The TARDIS shook as well, but far more violently than the ship they were both on. They had entered a whole new universe now, and she didn't like it. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as the whole Pete's world incident, but these were far from ideal circumstances.

Captain Ruzzgar raised his strangely designed pistol again, and fired at the Doctor. Once more, it fizzled out on contact with the shield. That caused him to stop smiling.

"Pity," he said, "I was hoping that the cross-dimensional travel would do something about that pesky shield. Oh well. Not much you can do now, unfortunately. We're not in _your _universe anymore, _Doctor_. This is _our _world. _Our _home. You'll fight on _our _terms now, and if you think we gave you trouble before, _now _you have to deal with Zeta too."

He gestured towards the ship outside that they were rapidly descending towards. He was confident. They had the advantage here.

However, it was not to last.

"RUZZGAR!"

A huge, red, 3D hologram of another alien's face appeared by the captain's chair. It looked panicked.

"Ruzzgar, we need immediate assistance!" it pleaded, "A group of human captives escaped and have been running amok! They're using our own weapons and technology against us! They've already killed most the population of the ship! Soldiers, scientists, engineers, it didn't matter to them! They're _monsters_! They've even somehow set the genetic experiments loose!"

"What?!" Ruzzgar demanded, "How did this happen?! They're only a primitive species! Especially in this universe! How are they-?!"

"I don't know, but please! Send help immediately! The humans have already taken the engineering core, the hangar, the labs, and disabled our main gun! They're currently making their way through the living quarters, or one of them at least! If you don't hurry, they could be on the bridge at any-"

_**TSEEW!**_

There was a scream. The other captain's head seemed to turn around, and then it exploded in a shower of hologram gore with the sound of a second laser blast. He slumped out of sight, and then the red hologram was displaying only a partial view of an alien chair. In the background, voices could be heard.

"Yippee ki-yay, ya ugly green fucks!"

_**TSEEW! TSEEW!**_

The Doctor paused. Though the telepathic circuits of the TARDIS perfectly translated just about any language in universe for him, he was still always aware of exactly what language was being spoken. Until now, he and the aliens had been conversing in their native tongue. _That _however was unmistakably English.

American English.

"'Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the Earth!'" the voice crowed, "'I have not come to bring peace, but a sword!'"

_**TSEEW!**_

"AGHHHHHHHHH!" screamed an unknown alien.

"'For the evildoers shall be cut off, but those who wait for the Lord shall inherit the land!'"

_**TSEEW! TSEEW!**_

Bible quotes. Here of all places. Being loudly shouted by a strange American man as he killed large numbers of aliens with their own weapons. The Doctor would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation, were people's lives not still at stake.

Captain Ruzzgar growled, and pointed a long finger down at the ship.

"Cut the feed and bring us around!" he barked, "I want us facing Zeta head on! Approach from above and move in backwards! I want the death ray aimed at Zeta's vitals and ready to fire!"

He marched across the bridge and jumped into his chair. The other aliens began to run for their consoles and began following their captain's commands. The ship began to twist around and drift backwards, towards the planet. The Doctor stood watching the action, transfixed by the scene as the crew seemed to forget about him entirely.

"Send a red to their bridge!"

"Ruzzgar-" the Doctor began.

"Quiet! I have matters to deal with."

He slammed a fist on the console, and began speaking into it. No hologram appeared on the bridge again this time.

"Human! You have vastly overstepped your bounds! By attacking the crew of Mothership Zeta, you have lost all right to protection by the treaty of Silarmellos, for instances of negotiations between our species! You are advised to surrender immediately, or else the full might of Mothership Eta will be brought to bear against you! This is your only warning!"

There was a temporary silence, aside from the hum of the ship and the pressing of buttons as the crew of the Eta continued their work. Still no red hologram was appearing. Presumably the red holograms were only for when sending an important message to the other ship; to grab attention, not for general communication.

The captain could still clearly see what was going on over there on his monitor display though, because he then said;

"Stop ignoring me! What are you doing to that body?! Put that down!"

"Captain!" the Doctor shouted, "They can't understand you! They probably don't have any clue what you're saying."

Ruzzgar grunted, and turned back to the computer in front of him. As he did, Zeta began to emerge into their view again as they floated down to its level. From a speaker on the computer, they could hear a human woman's voice.

"Holy shit. Where did that come-?"

At that point, the audio cut out, presumably as Ruzzgar ceased communication.

"That's it! Fire at will!"

"Sir!" one of the aliens protested, "We're to fire on Zeta?! One of our own?!"

"I'd rather see her as ashes than in the hands of a bunch of filthy humans! DESTROY HER!"

One of the aliens marched up to the captain's chair.

"Captain Ruzzgar, with all due respect, I can't abide by this order. As one of the final three motherships that remain from the old fleet, and one of the last bastions of our kind, Zeta is too important an asset for us to lose! With our race on the brink of extinction, we can't afford to leave _anyone_ behind! There may still be survivors on board Zeta!"

Ruzzgar's head twisted around to face the other alien.

"Duly noted, lieutenant," he said through gritted teeth.

He then immediately raised his sidearm and shot him in the head, causing the lieutenant to disintegrate in seconds.

"NOW FIRE!"

There was a loud blaring sound, and through the windows, the Doctor saw the blast of Mothership Eta's death ray striking its opposite number. The beam appeared to be blocked by some kind of energy shield, which could be observed as a ripple of blue light that flickered across the point where the laser impacted.

"FIRE AGAIN! FULL POWER!"

"We need time to charge, captain!"

In that time, Zeta took the initiative to fire instead.

_**BOOM!**_

Sparks erupted from panels and machinery. A klaxon alarm began blaring. Everything shook, and the Doctor fell onto his knees briefly before scrambling up again.

"WE'VE BEEN HIT!"

"NO!"

"HOW DO THE HUMANS KNOW HOW TO OPERATE ZETA'S WEAPONS?!"

The Doctor was momentarily paralyzed, until he shook himself out of his stupor and remembered what he was here for in the first place.

The captives.

He turned back to the TARDIS and ripped the doors open. The moment he did, the sound of klaxons was complemented by the ringing of the cloister bell. Inside, everything was dark, except a red glow coming from all around. He spared a look back at the alien captain, who suddenly looked terrified, before rushing in and closing the door behind him.

"Not now! Any time but now!"

He reached into a pocket and withdrew his sonic screwdriver. Pointing it at the console, he changed to the TARDIS maintenance setting and activated it, but instead of fixing anything he just caused a small explosion of sparks and smoke to start pouring out. The cloister bell sounded ever louder.

"Come _onnnn_..." he whined.

The TARDIS shook again. There was the sound of another explosion outside. Zeta was hitting back and hitting hard.

"Doctor!"

That was the sound of Ruzzgar, pleading as he pounded on the wooden doors.

"Let me in, Doctor! I don't want to die!"

For a second, the time lord just looked at the door, before immediately returning his attention to the console.

"You had your chance."

* * *

There was another explosion and a scream. The TARDIS began to wheeze with life once more, and the lights came back on. The monitor began to display a view of the bridge of the Eta, just in time for the Doctor to see it engulfed in flames. The explosions continued. The shaking continued. The crashing and burning and rattling, the screams of dying aliens and the sound flying metal all filled the air.

The TARDIS dematerialised as the ship exploded, but it wasn't too late for the captured humans. All he had to do was go back a few minutes, land in the holding cells after Eta entered this universe but before it was destroyed...

_**CRASH!**_

"What?!" the Doctor exclaimed in surprise.

He pulled the view monitor over to him and saw that the TARDIS had impacted a piece of flying debris.

"Impossible!"

They were supposed to be travelling back already. Instead, the TARDIS had dematerialised in the ship as it exploded, and materialised outside it again during the same explosion. How could the TARDIS have failed something as simple as jumping into the time vortex?

_It must be this new universe..._

Not a good sign. And now it appeared they were riding the explosion, and hurtling down towards the planet.

"Hang on, old girl!"

* * *

The TARDIS couldn't decide if it wanted to dematerialise or fall, so it was instead opting to do both. It sailed down through the atmosphere of the planet, thrashing about in the air wildly. It was literally on fire, and left a trail of orange behind it. Every so often though, the light would cut out. The blue box vanished for several seconds at a time, before appearing further along the same course, as if it had never stopped falling but had become invisible for just a few moments.

Inside, its pilot was madly trying to contain the situation with a fire extinguisher, spraying it all over the control console while the fires raged around him. Smoke filled the innards of the TARDIS, and that cloister bell just _would not shut up_.

The Doctor coughed and tried to wave the smoke away. He threw the fire extinguisher aside and grabbed a handle attached to a small wheel, which he began to spin rapidly. To someone observing, it would have seemed like he had no idea what he was doing at all, and was just trying anything to get things under control.

The view monitor began making an obnoxious beeping of its own, independent of the equally obnoxious cloister bell, and forcing the Doctor to take time between his manic scrambling and wiping the sweat from his forehead to pull it over again and see what it wanted.

It appeared to be warning him that they were about to impact with the surface of the planet.

"Brilliant..."

* * *

Somewhere in California, in the year 2162 around the month of January, a man in a blue jumpsuit worn underneath a suit of metal armour looked up at the night sky. As he saw the trail of light, he thought that it must surely have been shooting star, like the old science textbooks in his vault talked about.

He briefly considered making a wish, before dismissing the notion as childish folly, and continuing through the desert.

_**END.**_

* * *

_**A/N:**_ This crossover story is a companion piece to my other _Fallout_ stories, _Wanderer's Diary_ and _Vault Dweller's Log_. Neither of them are necessary reads to understand anything here, and neither will spoil anything from this story. That said, the latter will give minor hints. Give them a look if you're interested though.


	2. Chapter 1: Psychic Nemesis

**The Doctor and the Master**

**Chapter 1: Psychic Nemesis.**

"Hmm."

In the warm night air, a lone figure stood on the outskirts of Junktown. His trench coat swayed slightly in the breeze, and under his right arm he held a green eyed helmet with a built-in gas mask. His armour was ancient, and showed its age with various scratches and minor damage all over. On the whole though, it was solidly built. Excellent protection against the dangers of the wasteland.

The man underneath this armour looked up at the sky curiously, his eyes following a trail of light that blazed across it. He watched it fall towards the Earth. Nonchalantly, he removed a lit cigarette from his mouth and exhaled a puff of smoke, before dropping it to the ground and crushing it under his boot.

As he did, he observed the light falling to the ground in the distance, southwards and out of his view. It looked like it landed maybe half a day's walk from Junktown.

"Now, what might that be?" he muttered.

"Don't know."

The other man who responded to his question was a town guard. He was an unshaven youth in simple leather armour, clutching a beat up desert eagle that seemed to be his only weapon. He looked slightly nervous even being out here.

"You gonna go out after that thing, Mr. Tycho, sir?"

Tycho shrugged.

"Might as well, kid. No reason for me to hang around here any longer."

He raised his helmet again and placed it over his head. His vision tinted green. Then he drew his double-barrel shotgun and checked to confirm it was properly loaded. A quick inventory to make sure that he had his brass knuckles on his left hand and that his knife was safely in its sheath hanging from his belt, and he seemed satisfied.

"Guess I'm heading out," he said, voice distorted by the helmet. "See ya around, kid. Tell Killian and Lars I said goodbye."

And then he marched out into the wasteland.

* * *

The TARDIS pulled up as it hit the ground, correcting its path all too late. Fire still streaked behind it, the thing was spinning like an out of control merry go round, and every so often it would also flip over and nearly land upside down too. Normally that would be enough, but the TARDIS was also bouncing several feet into the air every time it struck the planet's surface.

Inside, the Doctor was thrown from side to side by the chaotic movements. He fell backwards against one of the pillars, and then was suddenly thrust forwards again by another unexpected jerk. This one sent him careening into the console. A third movement threw him back into the chairs behind him. And still the alarms sounded, the sparks flew, smoke poured everywhere and the Doctor tried to right himself and regain control.

He held onto the chair tightly, using it to support himself and remain standing. The TARDIS shook about for only a short while longer, eventually coming to a rest. Or so it seemed. The TARDIS had finally stopped bouncing around the alien landscape and spinning like crazy, but it was still unbalanced, and was now about to fall.

In the dark desert outside, there was no-one around to see the blue box crash onto its side, other than some startled rats.

* * *

A quarter of an hour later, the doors to the TARDIS flew open again. From within the box, a metal grappling hook shot out and latched onto a rock. It was attached to a long rope, which was pulled taut as the Doctor used it to scale up the floor of the control room. The artificial gravity had stopped working for some reason. Likely not serious damage. He'd probably just hit a button by accident while flailing his arms, but he'd have to look into that later.

A strange sense of deja vu hit him as he climbed, though he wasn't sure from what. The Doctor quickly dismissed it as time echoes and continued up.

He crawled out of the TARDIS a complete mess. His coat was filthy, his hair was untidy, and he was coughing from all the smoke he had inhaled. Though they weren't visible, he was also now sporting several new bruises from being thrown into everything during the crash. Needless to say, he'd seen better days.

The time lord fell off the top of the TARDIS and landed on his shoulder on the dusty desert floor. He groaned momentarily, but then rolled over onto his back and sighed in relief. He had crashed, but it could have been worse. It could have been a _lot _worse.

His head rolled to the side, and the Doctor looked across the landscape he now found himself in. The desert at night was mostly barren, but there were a few cacti and small plants scattered around. And rocks. Lots of rocks. As he slowly sat up and took a look around, he came to the realisation that this was likely this universe's Earth.

"Huh."

Interesting coincidence. He hadn't been anywhere near Earth back in his universe before they crossed over. Something had obviously drawn them here. What did _Eta _want with this version of Earth?

They hadn't dared come near Earth in normal space. Too dangerous. By 2277, the human race was a force to be reckoned with, and easily capable of fending off invaders, even if the planet itself wasn't in the best state. Then again, this was a parallel world. Events could have happened differently here. Maybe in this universe, humanity never really recovered from the dalek invasion in the 22nd century?

The Doctor pulled himself onto his feet again and leant against the side of the TARDIS. Smoke poured out from inside still, but she'd get over it. Right now, he had only one job. Steeling himself for the task ahead, he clamped his fingers around the bottom of the box and tried to force it upright again. He grimaced from the strain, and the TARDIS was proving especially unhelpful right now.

Once it was off the ground at least, the Doctor got underneath and gave it a good shove, forcing the old girl upright with another loud crash from within. He pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped his brow, leaning against the TARDIS again and taking another look around the moonlit desert.

"Right," he said to himself. "Now, where am—?"

He clutched his head suddenly, as a searing pain ran through him.

_**WHAT ARE YOU?**_

Something living was speaking inside his mind. A psychic entity, very curious and evidently with no sense of privacy, was trying to force its way in. It had a voice like an echo, as if it were several voices speaking in unison, but they were all of one mind. It was definitely a singular being.

_**WHAT. ARE. YOU?!**_

The voice was demanding and authoritative. It spoke with a confidence and certainty, like it knew everything it did was right and did not question its own actions for even a second. The Doctor could practically _feel _the superiority complex radiating from it.

"Sorry, but you're _not _getting in here."

The thing was persistent, and very powerful from the feel of it, but it was also a massive distance away. Though the intruder could probably have given the Doctor at least some minor trouble were they face to face, right now it didn't take much to get the thing to go away. The Doctor pushed back with his own psychic ability, forming a barrier around his mind that most other telepathic species would be hard pressed to break through.

Still it persisted, lashing out and trying to claw through, but the thing soon learned its lesson. It was not going to beat a mind as strong as the Doctor's from such a distance, and it knew better than to waste energy trying. Still, it smoldered with a quiet anger, almost offended that another sapient being would dare deny it entrance.

The Doctor smiled to himself in satisfaction. He turned around to face the TARDIS again, took a single step towards it, and then immediately and without warning fell unconscious.

* * *

In the dim light of the early morning, Tycho lowered his binoculars and raised an eyebrow at the scene below him.

"Huh."

No meteorite or wreckage to be seen. Instead, the man had spent hours trekking all the way out here to sate his curiosity, and found what looked like a dead guy and a blue box where the crash site was meant to be. What was worse was that there wasn't even any obvious connection. It didn't look damaged, so it couldn't have been the crashing thing. And it was upright.

Plus, what even was it? "Police Public Call Box," the sign on top of it declared. Those were all words that Tycho individually understood the meaning of, but put together like that he wasn't sure what it was trying to convey. Obviously it had to be some kind of old world relic, and the fact that it was somehow related to the police went without saying, but he'd honestly never seen one of these before during his many wanderings in the wasteland. And he considered himself very well travelled.

Approaching the thing at a casual gait, he sidestepped a group of rats and looked over his shoulder in case of raiders. Soon he came up to the box itself. After a failed attempt to open up the doors on its front, he then turned his attention to the stranger sprawled on the ground before it. Somehow, he hadn't noticed until this point that the other man appeared to actually be alive.

"Hey." Tycho prodded him in the ribs with a boot. "You okay, buddy?"

No response.

"Hmph."

He lent down and grabbed him by the shoulders to shake him awake. Still nothing happened. He considered trying to slap him awake, but figured that would be rude. The mystery man might not appreciate that when he woke up. But still, he couldn't just leave him out here in this state. He could get eaten by the rats.

Sighing, Tycho hoisted him up and threw him onto his shoulder.

"Don't worry. I'll get you out of here."

* * *

Everything was hazy. The Doctor groaned and put a hand to his forehead as he re-entered the waking world. His eyes fluttered, but when they were fully open he found himself staring up at a dirty brown ceiling that looked like like rusting metal. Turning his head to the side, he saw that the walls were the same, though slightly less grimy looking, as if somebody had made a halfhearted attempt at cleaning but gave up trying to make it look _completely _presentable.

Sitting up, he looked around the room some more. To his right was a short bookcase and a wooden door, and there was a long table and a pair of chairs at the other end of the room. The floors were large stone tiles of a sort of brownish pink colour, and many were faded or cracked. The whole room felt well-worn. Old, but not like an abandoned Victorian mansion or drifting dead spaceship felt old. This room had seen use, it just hadn't been fixed up in a long time.

Looking down, he saw that he was still in his usual suit, albeit a lot filthier than he normally liked to be seen in it. His coat was missing though. Before he could begin worrying about the many contents of that coat's pockets, he looked back to the bookcase again and saw his coat folded up on top of it.

With a smile, he threw the thin sheets aside and climbed out of bed to go retrieve it. He unfolded the coat and began putting it back on, checking for his sonic screwdriver and psychic paper as he did. The door opened behind him, and he looked back over his shoulder at the woman who stepped inside.

"Oh," she said. "You're awake. Good. Tycho said he found you in the desert and you wouldn't wake up. He was a bit worried about you."

"Well, I'm alright now, happy to say."

The woman smiled at him.

"Good. I'll go tell Tycho and Killian that you're awake. They'll both want to introduce themselves to you."

"Certainly. Although, if you don't mind... where am I?"

"Junktown," the woman said simply.

Then she walked out the room, leaving the Doctor alone.

"Right. Very helpful."

* * *

Wandering out of his room, the Doctor concluded that he was in some kind of hotel. There was a reception desk nearby that was unmanned, and several other doors identical to his room's all around him. None of them were numbered, though they looked like they could have once been. The floor and walls were all the same, all faded, aged and rusted.

It was hot though. The Doctor distinctly recalled crashing in the desert somewhere, and this couldn't be far from there. The warm air drifted through the open door, and he could see that it was a bright day outside. There was another building in the distance and people walking around out there, and he felt like going out to see where he actually was, but for now the Doctor contented himself with exploring the hotel lobby.

A sign caught his eye by the reception desk. He almost hadn't noticed it, because it wasn't so much an actual sign as spray painted onto the wall. And not in a colour that made it stand out. Red against a brown background. Not smart. But it gave this place a name: Crash House Hotel.

A pair of men walked through the door, following the woman from before. One of them was a youthful looking man with short but messy light brown hair, a bit of stubble, and wearing faded and worn but casual clothes. The other man seemed about middle aged, bald, and had most of his body concealed by a suit of dark metal armour and an only slightly lighter trenchcoat. He even wore gloves. Like everything else the Doctor had seen so far, the armour appeared old and battered.

"Ah, you're awake," said the younger man as he approached, offering his hand. "Killian Darkwater. I'm the town's sheriff, mayor, and I own and run the general store. So if you need anything, you come and see me. Welcome to Junktown."

The Doctor took his hand and shook it.

"Thank you. I'm the Doctor."

"'The Doctor'?" Killian repeated, giving him a wry smile.

"Yep."

"Doctor who?"

"Just the Doctor."

"Alright then." Killian seemed amused, rather than annoyed by the lack of a name. "Fine. And this is Tycho. He's the one who brought you in from the desert."

Tycho leaned over and grabbed the Doctor's hand with his own. The leather of his gloves were still warm from being outside.

"You were in a bad way when I found you," he explained. "Wouldn't wake up when I tried to rouse you, and still didn't when I carried you all the way here. Not sure what happened to you, but it must've been pretty bad."

"Yes... yes it was..."

Before he could begin fishing for information on the possible fate of the TARDIS, Tycho interrupted the Doctor and volunteered it outright.

"You were knocked out and laying in front of some box. Blue thing. Said 'police' on the front, but the doors wouldn't open when I tried them. Mind telling us what that's about?"

"Oh, it's uh... a storage container. I keep important things in it. Um... you wouldn't happen to know where it is now, would you?"

Tycho shrugged.

"Left it out in the desert where I found you. Sorry. I didn't know it was important."

"No, it's alright," the Doctor said with a sigh. "I can always go pick it up later. It's not far from here, is it?"

"About half a day's walk. I can escort you out there tomorrow, if you want."

The Doctor strolled over towards the front door, and the two men began following after.

"I'll be fine, thanks. I can go myself."

"I wouldn't recommend that," Killian replied. "Route between there and Junktown is treacherous, and Tycho says that when he brought you in you didn't have a single weapon on you. God knows how survived the wasteland without one, but then again, maybe that's why you were in such a state in the first place."

"I don't like guns," the Doctor answered.

There was a pause.

"Sorry, 'the wasteland'?"

"Wasteland. Desert. Whatever you want to call it. Either way, not a place you want to brave unarmed. Between raiders, mutants, local wildlife... not pleasant."

"Mutants?"

"So the rumour goes. Ain't never seen them myself, but I know this vault dweller who passes through here sometimes who claimed to have actually met one, and he's not the lying type. Local hero, in fact. Helped bring down some gangsters that were causing hassle, among... other things."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

"Other things?"

He was beginning to sound like an echo, but he couldn't help it. Everything that came out of this man's mouth prompted further explanation.

"Well, let's just say that there used to be another doctor in town before you showed up. There's a vacancy now, if you're looking to fill the position?"

"I'm not that kind of doctor. And I'm also really not from around here, I should mention. What is all this about raiders and mutants? And where actually am I? Because I've never heard of Junktown before."

"Killian," said Tycho. "If it's all the same to you, why don't I take our new guest for a drink while I help fill in a few gaps for him? You probably shouldn't be away from the store for long."

"Alright then," Killian agreed. "Nice meeting you, Doctor."

With that, he turned and walked away towards another big building nearby that was presumably the general store. The Doctor and Tycho stood by the hotel's exit, until the old man patted the Doctor on the shoulder and gestured in the direction of the town's bar.

"Come on. Let's see if the Skum Pitt's open. What's your drink?"

* * *

The Skum Pitt turned out to not be as bad as the name implied. The bartender and waitress were friendly and the alcohol was okay, even if the bar itself looked just as ugly as the rest of Junktown. Actually, all the buildings were like that, the Doctor concluded; made of rusted old metal and whatever other junk their builders had on hand at the time. Hence "Junktown", he supposed.

Tycho and the Doctor took a table in the corner as they drank. It wasn't like a diner's table though. It was a big wooden table, made for many people to sit at, almost like the one from his hotel room. Tycho sat right in the corner with his back against the wall, and would periodically look around at the rest of the room.

The Doctor meanwhile was listening to him intently as he nursed a bottle of scotch. He wasn't exactly much of a drinker. That wasn't because he had some principal to never touch the stuff. He just never felt much of a need to.

"See, this whole place used to be dominated by the Skulz gang and a guy called Gizmo, who owned that casino we passed by."

"Right."

"The Vault Dweller, or Albert, stopped here just after Christmas, I think. He was travelling with a former caravan guard called Ian. The two of them were searching the wasteland for a water chip, because the vault that Albert came from broke theirs, and if he didn't get a replacement they were all gonna die. Last I saw him, he was still searching. But anyway.

"He made fast friends with Killian when they helped save his life. It just so happens that on the day the Vault Dweller came to town, Gizmo put a hit out on Killian. Vault boy killed the assassin before he was able to finish the job, and then over about three days started dispensing vigilante justice everywhere."

The Doctor took a swig of scotch and leaned in.

"He was doing all sorts. Saved a prostitute from some psycho back in the Crash House, saved the waitress in here from a rowdy Skul, helped a guy who was having problems with a crazy dog, and he helped me and Killian in getting the evidence we needed to finally do something about the Skulz and Gizmo.

"See, until then they got by because we couldn't prove that they did anything. The Vault Dweller put an end to that though. He got recordings of Gizmo confessing to orchestrating the assassination attempt, and infiltrated the Skulz to learn their plans too. Him, me, Killian and the rest of the Junktown police staged two raids and brought down the whole gang in one night. The first was in here as they were trying to kill Neal the bartender."

Tycho nodded in the direction of the man at the bar, who nodded back at him. The Doctor briefly turned around to see who he was talking about.

"Albert blew out Vinnie the gang leader's brains himself. And then he turned right around and insisted we attack the casino right away. Gizmo had bodyguards of course, but the Vault Dweller? He didn't even care. Threw a grenade at the guy! Boom! Blew that fat fuck into giblets."

The Doctor winced at the thought. Tycho gave an apologetic look for being so graphic.

"Yeah. And then when he left town... well... The last thing he did before leaving, for the first time anyway, was to expose what exactly our town doctor was up to... Killian doesn't really like to blab about it to strangers, because it's kind of embarrassing and reflects bad on Junktown, but Doc Morbid was up to some real creepy stuff. Did it for ages, right under our noses. No idea how he got away with it for so long."

"What was he up to then?" asked the Doctor.

The other man leaned in slightly as well, and brought his voice down to a whisper.

"Morbid was cutting up his dead patients, and sending the bits off to the Hub. If what the Vault Dweller found is to be believed, there's a guy up there called Iguana Bob, who cooks it and sells it to people, telling them it's iguana on a stick."

The time lord stared at Tycho in absolute disbelief.

"Is anyone at the Hub looking into this?"

"Well, yeah. The Vault Dweller is. And he's having a tough time of it from what he's told us, but the guy's sticking it out."

The Doctor threw up his arms and returned to his scotch, drinking in earnest now.

"I know, I know," Tycho muttered. "It's a shitty goddamn wasteland, Doc. All we can do is try to make it better in small ways. That's what the Vault Dweller is doing. It's what I am too. Why I saved you. Because I just want to help people where I can. That's what I do. I roam, and I help people."

He didn't say anything, but the Doctor gave the other man a grim smile. That was a feeling he could honestly say he understood. That was his whole life, every day; just trying to help people who needed it.

"My grandfather was a Desert Ranger, you know," Tycho continued. "Continuation of the old Texas Rangers from before the war. Big community of survivalists and protectors. They're all about fighting those that prey on the weak. About the closest thing to authorities the wastes have outside of towns. I was never officially a Ranger myself, but grandpa taught me and my father all the tricks of the trade. And that's where this armour is from too."

The Doctor's eyes lingered on the scratches and other light damage on the chest plate. He was beginning to put it together now. Mentions of a war. No central government or authority. Mutants and raiders roaming the desert. The place was called the wasteland. And everything was old and damaged, like it was all salvage. It hadn't escaped his notice either that Tycho paid for their drinks with bottlecaps.

All signs pointed to some kind of disaster. Possibly a nuclear apocalypse. Not enough to wipe out humanity, but if America as a country still existed anymore in this universe, it at the very least had no control over this particular region. Whatever happened, it was a few generations ago, and it was _bad_. Mankind was still recovering by the looks of it.

His hearts went out to them, but he was glad to see that they survived, and that they were coping.

"You know," the Doctor began, putting his drink down, "I do a lot of travelling myself, and I'm just the same. Everywhere I go it seems I'm helping someone with something. I don't go _looking _for trouble. It just finds me. But I just help when I can, and then I keep on travelling..."

"What do you travel for then, Doctor?"

"To see something new, mostly."

"Heh. Well, you'll get that out here. But I'm not sure how many people you can help around these parts without a gun. I don't know what kind of problems you're used to, but out here, that's really the only thing that solves anything."

"Well, that's where you and I disagree," the Doctor replied. "If you want to see how I solve problems, you can come with me if you like."

"Of course I'm coming with you. I ain't letting you go back to get that blue box of yours alone and unarmed. You'll be killed before you make it halfway there without me."

The Doctor grinned at him, and raised the bottle of scotch again.

"Glad to hear it."

* * *

They left the town early the next day. The Doctor and Tycho said their goodbyes to Killian and ventured out together in the general direction of the TARDIS.

The human was heavily armed for their trip, carrying a knife, shotgun and brass knuckles for the journey. What's more, he also donned a strange, green eyed helmet once they left Junktown, which Tycho claimed also functioned as a gas mask, protected him from radiation, and had night vision capabilities. All standard issue Desert Ranger equipment, supposedly. It also made his voice sound tinny, like he was talking through a radio.

And the Doctor had some cheap leather armour that he was wearing over the top of his suit but under his coat. He hadn't wanted it, but Killian insisted that it would be necessary and Tycho concurred. The fact that the Doctor had no bottlecaps with which to pay for it was no concern. Killian offered it for free, just this once, since the Doctor refused to take a weapon off him.

Now, the two men wandered through the desert at a leisurely pace. Every so often, Tycho would stop them and draw some binoculars to look around, watching the horizon for signs of their destination, picking out landmarks or watching for possible threats, like raiders or mutant wildlife.

Mostly though, the two just talked some more.

"So where _are _you from, if not from around here?" asked Tycho.

"Oh, you know... around."

"Around like... what? North? West? Because I've been east, and they still call it the wasteland out there, but you acted like you weren't familiar with the term."

"Well, where I come from it's not really a wasteland..."

"No shit? Where then?"

"Um... Canada," the Doctor answered. "Can't tell by the accent?"

"No. Never even met a Canadian before."

"And now you have. This is what Canadians sound like."

Tycho turned to look at the Doctor as they walked. The fact that his face was covered by the helmet made it slightly unnerving. There was no way to tell his expression behind those green eyes.

"So tell me then, what's it like in Canada? I've never been."

"Oh, you know. Mountains and forests. Really cold. Mooses. All that."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Tycho kept staring for a moment.

"See, because I was always under the impression that Canada was hit pretty hard in the war. Never did see it myself, granted, but being annexed by the U.S. when the bombs started falling, I wouldn't have thought Canada would be that much better off than here."

This was the trouble with lying about your identity when you didn't know all the facts. You got caught out by the smart ones. Tycho was definitely one of the smart ones.

"Ahh... can we change the subject, please?"

"Okay. So what about _you_ then? I've been calling you 'The Doctor' for days now, and I don't even know what you're a doctor of, let alone your name."

"I'm a doctor of a lot of things."

"Always with the vague answers, huh?"

"You'll get a lot more explanation once we reach the TARDIS," the Doctor assured.

"The what?"

"The TARDIS. Time and relative dimensions in space. That's what the police box is called."

Tycho tilted his head.

"And why is it called that?"

"You'll see when we get there."

* * *

The time lord couldn't help but break into a big grin when he saw his old friend at long last. She stood out against the sandy backdrop of the Californian desert, still looking clean and undamaged, despite her less than stellar landing. It was ironic really; she was far more ancient than any structure in Junktown, but _she _still looked magnificent.

His walk gradually broke into a run as he approached, and he rushed over to the TARDIS as quickly as he could. Reasonably certain that there were no dangers out here, Tycho also dared to remove his helmet to reveal his visible confusion.

The TARDIS doors were facing away from them as they walked over, so he couldn't see what was inside when the Doctor flung them open and ran in. _Ran_. The box was only about as big as him! Tycho just shook his head as he walked over to it.

"Doctor, what the hell are you even...?"

As he came closer to the thing, he began hearing a clanging bell coming from within, but it was distant and echoing. He frowned as he walked around the box and found the doors himself, left slightly ajar by the Doctor. Gently, he pushed them open and walked inside.

His eyes went just a little wider as he walked in, and he looked all around him, gazing from the console, to the coral pillars, to the ceiling and all the other space that had no business being here.

The Doctor had thrown his coat onto the pillar just to Tycho's right and was now circling the console, checking various readouts and examining the instruments. No longer was he smiling. Now he just looked concerned. For no apparent reason he had put on a pair of glasses, and was now staring at a monitor. The ringing of the cloister bell set an ominous tone, even if the room wasn't all red anymore.

The Desert Ranger meanwhile prodded a gloved finger against a nearby pillar, and tapped a foot on the metal grating beneath him. Perturbed, he strode back to the doors and shoved them open to stick his head out and look around the side. The box's outside size remained unchanged.

Withdrawing, he closed the doors again, properly this time. Then he marched back over towards the console.

"This thing is bigger on the inside," he announced, saying that like a man complaining that the Sunday paper was late.

The Doctor looked over to him.

"Oh. Right. Sorry. I didn't mention, did I? I'm a time lord from the planet Gallifrey in a universe parallel to yours. I'm nine hundred years old, I've got two hearts, and I travel through time and space, saving worlds and having adventures. This is my time machine. She's called the TARDIS."

He leaned over and grabbed Tycho's hand to shake it again.

"Welcome aboard."

_**END.**_


	3. Chapter 2: Mechanical Issues

**The Doctor and the Master**

**Chapter 2: Mechanical Issues.**

Tycho walked in a circle around the console, just as the Doctor had been doing. He stared down at all the controls and interfaces, his expression never faltering from that mixture of surprise and confusion. In truth, he was a lot more restrained than he could have been though. Some people didn't take the revelation of the true nature of the TARDIS nearly so well.

Despite the prominent clanging of the cloister bell still in the background, the Doctor stood aside and let him have this moment.

"It's... You said this was a... a time machine?"

"Yep."

Tycho looked up at him.

"And you're... you're an... an alien?"

"I guess I would be to you."

Tycho took a step back. His expression hardened as he gave a suspicious look. Though he didn't draw a weapon, the Doctor was disappointed to note that one of his hands had dropped to his side where the combat knife was sheathed, in case he thought he would have to.

"Bullshit. You look just like one of us! Speak our language too! I ain't stupid, Doctor, so tell the truth!"

The Doctor sighed and took a step forward.

"First of all—"

Tycho pulled his shotgun and pointed it right in the Doctor's face. The time lord immediately threw up his arms in surrender and his eyes went wide, but when it became clear that it was just the other man's nerves getting the better of him and not any genuine attempt to harm the Doctor, he calmed down slightly.

He took it back. Tycho wasn't taking this well at all.

"First of all..." The Doctor reached up and grabbed the end of the shotgun. "...Calm down. Nobody here wants to hurt you."

Gently, he lowered it so that the gun was no longer pointing at him, and reached out to put a hand on the ranger's shoulder. Tycho now looked more embarrassed than at all afraid.

"And yes, I am an alien. Lots of aliens look like this. Though, strictly speaking it's more that humans look like time lords than the reverse."

"And speaking English?"

"I know a lot of languages. Even if I didn't though, the TARDIS has a set of telepathic translation circuits that do the job if you don't know the language. I've been speaking Chinese Mandarin since that last sentence and you haven't even noticed."

Tycho blinked at that. The Doctor took a step back and returned to looking at the monitor.

"But why are you here? Where did you come from? Why is this box so... strange? The size is all off and there's that bell... In fact, what does that bell mean? It sounds bad."

He was right. The cloister bell was not getting any less annoying, and it had been sounding for days now. Looking back to Tycho, the Doctor marched over to where he was standing and gestured for him to get away. The ranger wordlessly stepped back and observed the Doctor as he began removing the floor grating where he had been standing.

"It _is _bad. The TARDIS is in pain. She's not used to this universe. The laws of physics here are ever so slightly different, and it's like a slow acting poison, eroding and eating away at her."

"You talk like the ship's alive," Tycho said with a smirk.

The Doctor just looked back at him. He didn't need to say anything. That glare made Tycho's smile slowly melt away as he began to realise what the look implied.

"...Seriously? Like... really alive?"

"Like I said, she's in pain. This universe's makeup isn't exactly familiar. Not _completely _toxic, mind. If she had enough exposure then she'd acclimate to this universe's effect. Like measles. Get sick with it once and you never will be again. It's not nice for her though, and this universe will probably kill her before she can build up that 'immunity', so to speak. Wouldn't be so bad if we hadn't made such a rough entrance. This is more shock than anything else."

He stroked a hand against the edge of the console.

"Standing still here and soaking it all up isn't helping though. If I moved her back and forth in time a bit then she'd adjust better. Stave off the worst of it a little longer."

"Why not do that then?" asked Tycho.

The Doctor ducked down into the crawlspace beneath the grating and began fiddling with some components.

"I would, but I can't right now. It's a time machine that can't time travel. Parts are broken, and we need to get replacements, or she's not moving again."

He popped back up. Still standing in the small pit, his head came up to Tycho's knees. He leaned against another bit of floor grating and took off his glasses.

"I ended up crashing here in the first place when I tried to make a jump back in time. I was meant to be rescuing some humans that were stuck on an alien mothership. They'd abducted them from a space colony in my universe for experiments. I chased them into this universe to get them back, but I didn't account for the turbulence."

Tycho just smiled and shook his head.

"Jesus, man."

"What year is it, by the way?" the Doctor asked.

"You serious? It's 2162. January."

"Mmm. It was 2277 when I entered this universe. I was only trying to go back a few minutes. Then I ended up falling here."

"Yeah, I saw your crash. Came out here in the first place thinking it was a meteorite, but that's when I found you. Was going to ask you about it when you woke up, but I thought you'd mention it in your own time if you were involved at all. Gotta say, I didn't expect this..."

The Doctor put both hands on the grating and hoisted himself up out of the hole.

"If this is 2162 though, apocalypse or not, there should be some good parts around that I can use to fix up the TARDIS. Just enough to get her working again, then a quick jaunt back in time and forwards again should be all she needs."

"Well... how long do we have?" asked Tycho.

The Doctor sighed.

"Two? Maybe three weeks? If it's untreated that is. She'll last a lot longer here if I can get some spare parts from this universe installed soon."

"What do we need?"

The time lord smiled at that "we". He began rushing around the console again.

"The navigation is offline, so any attempt to travel will just scramble the controls and throw us anywhere. I doubt I can synthesise the right materials for the part with the TARDIS in this state. BUT, I can improvise a temporary replacement out of a few routine sensor modules, bits of wiring and maybe a few terminal circuit boards."

"Any specific kind of wiring?"

"No. Nothing specific. Tearing apart a toaster should be enough. Do you know anywhere around here we can get electronics like that? Didn't see any toasters for sale in Killian's store."

Tycho laughed.

"Finding a _working _toaster is probably impossible, but... there are certainly plenty of functional terminals in the wasteland. If you know where to look. In the last days before the Great War, RobCo started producing more resilient models of their computers. Lots of them you find will be fried, but important people had hardy ones, built to last a thousand years. So any working terminal you do find is usually guaranteed to have interesting stuff on it at least... and top of the range parts."

"So where's important enough to have working terminals then?"

Tycho turned his back to the Doctor and began pacing. He rubbed his chin as he considered the question.

"...The Brotherhood of Steel might have what we need," he mused.

"Who are the Brotherhood of Steel?"

"Descendents of the pre-war military, the way they tell it. Sort of like how the Desert Rangers are descendents of the Texas Rangers. They wear these huge metal suits of armour that make them bulletproof, 'less you got armour piercing rounds, and they fancy themselves as knights. I've heard that they worship technology, though I don't know how true that is. They're certainly very protective of their tech. But they do trade with the water caravans from the Hub, so they must be willing to part with some of their valuables for the right price."

The Doctor walked over to the pillar where he'd left his coat and threw it back on.

"Let's make them an offer they can't refuse then."

* * *

Tycho's introduction to the world of time and space travel was followed by another long walk back towards Junktown. As the ranger explained, the Brotherhood of Steel was a fair distance away, and they had to get more supplies if they wanted to walk all the way out there; easily a five day trip on foot.

It was late upon their return. The great metal gates were locked up tight when they arrived, but fortunately for the both of them, Tycho was enough of a familiar presence to warrant opening up. Normally, he explained to the Doctor, people were not allowed into the town at night except in special circumstances. Or if they could sweet talk the guard into it.

Though it was late however, the Skum Pitt remained open. This in fact was its normal business time, according to Tycho. The bar being open during the daytime, like it was when they first drank there, was apparently the exception rather than the rule. And since it happened to be open, Tycho invited his new friend out for another drink.

Nothing better to do, the Doctor joined him once more, and the two took their previous place in the corner of the bar. Neil walked by and poured a glass of gin for the Doctor this time, who looked at it oddly for a moment before picking it up and nodding to the bartender in thanks.

"So what's it like out there?" Tycho asked. "Among the stars, I mean?"

"Oh, it's... it's great, yeah. Lots of places to go. Sights to see. People to meet. Usually trouble to be found too, but Earth's just the same really."

"Hmm," said Tycho as he took another drink. "You do this alone? Travel the universe in your little ship? Or universes, as the case may be?"

The Doctor leaned against the table and also took a sip.

"Normally? No. Used to travel with people. Mostly humans, but not always."

"Yeah, I'll bet. How old did you say you were? Nine hundred? Must have travelled with a few then."

"Loads."

"But not right now?"

The Doctor drew himself up.

"I'm between companions right now," he explained. "It's all good travelling with them for a little while, but they all have to leave in the end. They might have other responsibilities, or find something worth staying for... some leave because they just can't take the stress of it. Some die. Some end up worse. Some get lost where I can't help them back. Some forget me entirely."

"Must be pretty painful..."

He looked down at his drink.

"Yeah..."

* * *

The Doctor's designated living quarters while staying in Junktown was the hotel room where he had woken up on his first day. Tycho had paid for his room on both nights he spent there previously, (renting the room for a night was pretty cheap), and the ranger himself was staying in the same building, just across the hall.

This time he had lent the Doctor a number of bottlecaps to allow him to pay for the room himself, at least in a way. Though he hadn't done so with any expectation of repayment, the Doctor still endeavoured to collect some more caps wherever he found them and pay back the gentleman as thanks for his charity.

Waking up the next day, the two of them proceeded to Killian's store. The other man was happy to see the two of them still alive and well after their trip, and asked them how it went.

"Pretty good, Killian. We're not done yet though. Our dear Doctor here has a need to visit the Brotherhood of Steel."

Killian smiled and shook his head again, before crouching down behind the counter to begin rummaging through his supplies.

"Long trip ahead of you," he called from below as a lone hand reached up and placed a canteen on the table. "Might wanna keep that armour for a while longer, Doc."

In truth, the Doctor really didn't want to. For all the warnings the two men had given him about the dangers lurking in the wasteland, they had yet come across any trouble on the trip to or from Junktown. So far, the armour had served no real purpose except to make the heat even more unbearable. It was bad enough that he was wearing the coat over it all, but at least he needed the coat.

"Here ya go."

Killian dumped a number of lunchboxes on the desk, as well as several more water canteens, a sleeping bag, a metal box that looked to the Doctor like it was for ammunition storage, and a bulky looking pistol.

"Will that be all?"

Tycho's eyes scanned the pile for a second.

"...Got any pulse slugs or grenades?" he asked.

Killian held up a finger to tell them to wait a moment, and walked over to a shelf along the back wall.

"What do you need those for?" the Doctor whispered.

"We're going to see the Brotherhood of Steel," Tycho replied. "Pulse weapons are effective against their armour. About the only things that are, aside from armour piercing rounds."

He tapped the ammo box.

"That's what this is full of."

The Doctor frowned.

"Are we _expecting _a fight?"

"No. But in the wasteland, it never hurts to come prepared. I've never heard of the Brotherhood starting fights without reason, but I've not had any dealings with them before. They're an unknown. I don't like being unprepared. You don't live long in the wasteland unless you have a plan to kill everyone you meet."

Killian returned and dumped a handful of pulse slugs plus a single grenade on the counter.

"All I've got. Sorry."

"It'll do."

From nowhere, the shopkeeper pulled out a giant rucksack and began to stuff Tycho's purchases into it. The sole exception was the gun, which Tycho took for himself and began inspecting, looking down the sights and giving it a test fire while pointing at the wall. It was unloaded, so no damage was done, but he soon shoved in a clip of the armour piercing rounds and holstered it. Then he quickly began counting out caps to pay Killian.

Once he was done, Tycho grabbed the rucksack and slung it over his shoulder.

"A'ight. Looks like we've got everything," he declared. "Let's be on our way, Doc."

* * *

"It's not a healthy mentality, you know."

"What?" a tinny voice answered from beneath a green eyed helmet.

The Doctor and Tycho trekked across the desert together. The desolate, sandy wasteland had given way to a rocky and uneven terrain as they went further west. The sun was still beating down on them, but there was at least more available shade along this route. Tall rock cliffs and large boulders made for decent stopping points, but they frequently had to navigate over hills or through small canyons too. It definitely slowed the journey.

"That 'kill everyone you meet' mindset," the Doctor clarified. "I don't think it's a good attitude. I mean, I'm sure the wasteland is dangerous and all, but you've got to be able to trust some people. Otherwise, how do you ever make friends?"

Tycho closed his eyes and chuckled, not looking in front of him as they continued walking.

"I see. Sorry. I was generalising a bit. It's not so much that you need to be constantly watching _everyone _and preparing for a fight. That's being paranoid. I just mean that it always helps to be suspicious of strangers. I have plenty of friends, I assure you, Doctor. Killian's a good man. So is Lars. The Vault Dweller and Ian were decent folk as well. Shame you couldn't have met them, really. I think you would have liked them."

"The Brotherhood of Steel sound like they're on the level though. If they don't have a reputation for starting trouble, don't you think it's paranoid to expect and prepare for trouble?"

"Well..." Tycho paused, and looked over to the Doctor. "Okay, fine. Maybe it is. But I don't feel comfortable walking into a base of heavily equipped guys in invincible armour that I know nothing about. We need _some _insurance, Doc."

The time lord sighed and didn't bother arguing any further. The two walked in silence for about half a mile further, before Tycho removed his helmet and brought his rucksack around to remove a packet of cigarettes. He lit one and began to smoke it. The Doctor looked over to him again, and Tycho looked back. Then the ranger's eyes briefly became a little wider.

"Oh! Sorry!" he said, holding out the packet. "Where are my manners? Did you want one?"

"No thanks."

"You sure? I don't mind if you do."

"Really, I don't smoke. Anymore."

"Anymore?" Tycho repeated, putting the cigarettes back in his pocket and arching a brow. "But you used to?"

"Lifetimes ago..."

"Heh. You know, I've been trying to quit for years but never managed. What's your secret?"

"I didn't quit. I just didn't feel the need for it anymore after I... changed. Lost the taste for it and never bothered to take it back up. But this is going back centuries now."

"It an alien thing?"

"Yeah. It's an alien thing."

Tycho snorted.

"Lucky bastard."

As he said that, a shot rang through the air.

_**BANG!**_

"JESUS!"

Tycho dropped his cigarette and grabbed the Doctor by the scruff of his neck. As fast as he could he ran over to a nearby boulder, dragging his companion along behind him. The two of them took cover behind it, the rock being easily big enough to conceal the both of them standing up. The side they were hiding on was exposed to the sun, but the shooter was in the other direction.

"Fuck!" Tycho cursed as he threw his helmet on. "That bastard got the drop on us!"

His voice had regained the tinny quality he lost after removing his helmet, and the Desert Ranger was now removing his rucksack so he could move more freely without carrying the weight. He threw it over to the Doctor, who caught it and slung it over his own shoulder. Then he pulled out his shotgun and checked that it was loaded.

"You see what I mean?!" he shouted. "This goddamn wasteland!"

The Doctor had his back to the boulder, and crouched on the floor. For his part, he wasn't afraid, but the gunshot had definitely set him on edge.

"Who is it? Who's shooting at us?"

"Raiders, probably! Not the usual jokers though. That was a sniper round. Whoever this is, they at least have better equipment than the standard fare."

"Not quiet though," the Doctor observed.

"Snipers don't necessarily have to be stealthy. And raiders aren't known for their subtlety."

Tycho stepped towards the edge of their cover and poked his head out for a split second, before pulling it back.

"She's seen me."

"She?"

"Crazy-looking girl with a mohawk and a high power rifle. Definitely a raider. The armour's cobbled together crap and she's pretty filthy. Might be from one of the tribes."

"What tribes?"

"Raider tribes. There's three. Jackals, Khans and Vipers. She's probably with one of them. My money's on Jackals. Khan territory is far from here and the Vipers are pretty scarce nowadays since the Brotherhood wiped the floor with them a generation back. Then again, I heard the Shrine is pretty close to Junktown..."

_**BANG!**_

The raider was shooting at them still, but she couldn't hit them while they were behind cover.

"Damn it. Had to be a sniper, didn't it? All I've got is handguns, shotguns and melee weapons. I've got nothing for long range!"

He smacked a fist against the rock.

"How am I supposed to—?"

"YAAARRGH!"

A man came charging around the rock with a crazy look on his face. He was tattooed with odd symbols everywhere his skin was visible, and wore tatty leather armour. In his right hand he held a knife, and in his left a lead pipe. His hair was long and unkempt, and when he growled at them, his teeth were shown to have been sharpened to points.

To the Doctor, the man greatly resembled one of the Futurekind, the cannibalistic tribal degenerates he encountered at the end of the universe with Martha and Captain Jack. How long ago had that adventure been now? A year? Two years?

His thought was cut short as Tycho whipped out the double-barrel shotgun and blasted him in the face.

_**BLAM!**_

The raider fell over onto his back, his head torn apart by the explosion of the shotgun and splattering blood and bits of brain everywhere. The Doctor winced, and had to turn his head away from the gruesome sight.

"Okay, definitely Jackals."

"You didn't have to kill him!" the Doctor thundered as he climbed to his feet.

"Doctor, I will gladly debate the morality of killing in self-defence with you when we are not about to be torn apart and eaten by insane tribal freaks."

"RAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Another man came charging around from the other side. This one had his hair spiked up like a punk rocker and had piercings. He was also armed with a baseball bat that had nails punctured through it. He swung for Tycho with it, who ducked under the attack and pointed the shotgun up. He stuck the barrel under the raider's chin and decapitated him too.

_**BLAM!**_

"I hate these guys..." he muttered as he went to reload.

Two more popped out before he could finish, one coming from either side of the boulder. A woman and a man armed with a small handgun and a sledgehammer respectively. The Desert Ranger and the time lord both dodged out of the way as they attacked. The woman with the gun was on Tycho's side and nearly got a shot at him before he finished reloading and blasted her twice, the first time crippling her legs and the second finishing her off.

_**BLAM! BLAM!**_

The Doctor on the other hand was trying to negotiate with the man. He held his hands up, trying to gesture for the raider to calm down.

"Now please, stop this!" he warned. "I'm the Doctor, I can help you! Just put down the hammer and I'll gladly—"

He leapt back as the man lunged at him with the sledgehammer. He was slow and lumbering, and easily avoided, but he grinned maniacally as he closed in.

"Just stop it! You don't have to—"

_**BLAM!**_

The Doctor's attacker dropped dead like the rest.

"Doctor, if they could be reasoned with then they wouldn't be in a fucking raider tribe!"

The ranger calmed down as he noticed that the attacks seemed to have stopped and there were no more coming. He relaxed and lowered his shotgun, which he then proceeded to reload anyway. The time lord continued to smoulder, standing over the body of that last raider. He wasn't saying anything, so Tycho didn't speak either, and instead went back to peek around the side of the boulder again.

"Oh, Jesus..." he groaned. "Jackals! Sick fucking bastards..."

"What?" the Doctor asked, his curiosity causing him to momentarily ignore his simmering anger.

"Man, I so do not need this today..."

"What is it, Tycho?"

"Little Raider Junior on the prowl."

That warranted another raised eyebrow.

"Come again?"

"One of these sickos brought their kid with them."

The Doctor walked over to where Tycho was standing and looked around the side of the boulder too. He spotted the woman with the sniper rifle marching towards them across the open desert, foolishly not taking cover. By her side, a sandy haired boy around twelve years old followed, carrying a knife. He too was tattooed and had sharp teeth, but he didn't have armour, and his hair was shorter.

"Oh..."

"That's the Jackals. Cowards, the lot of them. They use ambush tactics to get you when you're not expecting it, like they did with us, and they don't like to go into a fight unless they have a large group to make sure they win it. And the thing about Jackals is that they aren't above using their children to boost the numbers. Jackal raiders get into the game early."

The old man looked around them, his eyes searching the landscape. Then he turned them back to the shotgun in his hands, and he lifted it again. Before he could pop out from their cover, the Doctor grabbed his shoulder.

"Don't you _dare_."

"I wasn't going to," Tycho responded indignantly.

He looked down his shotgun's sights and prepared to jump out and fire.

"I'm gonna shoot far to the side of the mother. At this range, it's unlikely anything will hit even her. She and the boy will scatter and try to go for cover behind one of those other large rocks out there. When they do, you and me can run for it."

The Doctor paused for a moment, but gave his newest companion a grim smile. Tycho nodded.

"Alright. On the count of three. One... Two... THREE!"

* * *

It was very dark by the time the wandering duo eventually decided to make camp for the night. They were set up in a small nook off the side of a winding pathway that led through a canyon they were passing through. Tycho insisted that it was dangerous to set up an actual campfire in the open, as it would be seen from a distance and attract raiders or predators. In the canyon though, he felt it was secluded enough that they were safe.

A number of rocks had been rolled over to form a miniature wall that blocked off the entrance to their camp from the main path. They could easily step over it, but it was meant to provide a hindrance to any rats, radscorpions or other pests that could come and be a nuisance to them in the night.

As they sat either side of the campfire, Tycho passed over one of the lunchboxes he had picked up from Killian. The lunchbox turned out to contain a tin of "Greasy Prospector Pork n' Beans," a box of "InstaMash," another box filled with processed meat called "Cram," and a small bottle of water to add to the InstaMash to get something edible out of it.

The Doctor had begun cooking his Pork n' Beans over the fire, holding it out with a pair of tongs that he had obtained from God knows where. The mash cooked as well in its own little pot, but the Cram was actually good to eat right away. It was essentially just Spam. The only obvious difference seemed to be the name. Parallel universes were weird like that.

"It's called a caravan lunch," Tycho explained. "Caravan traders take them on long distance journeys. They'll fill you up right quick."

"More like a caravan dinner," the Doctor said between bites of Cram, "with all this stuff you need to cook."

"Strictly speaking, you _can _eat it raw. It's just not as nice. Especially not the InstaMash."

"Don't think it'd do me much good to swallow a packet of dry powder."

"Well, none of it is _good _for you. Those things are stuffed with so many preservatives they can't even list them all on the packaging. But InstaMash without the water is just as nutritious and filling as it is with it. The only difference is that it won't taste like mash."

The Doctor scrunched up his face as he lowered the tongs and left the tin baking in the fire. He picked up the now finished pot of InstaMash and began digging into his meal with a spoon.

"So tell me about where you're from," the ranger asked. "Since I assume we're past the stage where I'd think you're crazy if you told me straight, you can answer honestly now, can't you?"

The Doctor coughed.

"I, uh... don't much like talking about home."

"Planet of the time lords off limits to discussion?"

"Well, it's just that I've already been a lot more forthcoming than I usually am. Most of the time, only travelling companions learn this much about me this fast. But I needed your help getting across the desert, and the TARDIS was right there, so..."

"Are we not travelling companions?" Tycho asked with a wry smile. "Isn't that what this is?"

"Touché."

"So...?"

With a sigh, the Doctor sat up and put his pot of mash aside.

"Like I said, I'm a time lord. I come from a planet called Gallifrey in another universe. Or I used to. It's not around anymore."

"No?" The ranger was curious now. "What happened?"

"A time war. The Last Great Time War. It was a battle between my people and a race called the daleks. In the end, there were no survivors. All the daleks are gone. All the time lords are gone. I'm all that's left."

Tycho bowed his head.

"Must have been rough."

"Yeah."

"You fought in it?"

The Doctor looked away.

"Yeah..."

"They have a saying around here, you know. 'War never changes'. There'll always be wars fought. It's the nature of man. And time lords, I guess. Or daleks. Whatever. I mean, look around you. This place is proof enough of that."

"You've never heard of daleks before?" asked the Doctor.

"No. Should I have?"

"Well, in my universe the daleks had invaded Earth by this time. By this point they should have been kicked out only five years ago now. Then again, that was in Britain... Never did come to see what was going on over here at the time."

"What is the alternate Earth like?" Tycho continued. "When we first met, you acted like the wasteland was new to you. When I asked, you said you were Canadian or some crap and that where you come from it's not a wasteland. Is Earth different in your universe then?"

The Doctor cringed when reminded of his earlier bold-faced lie, mentally hitting himself for not coming up with something cleverer, but nevertheless explained.

"There was a dalek invasion in my universe. Several of them, actually, but only the one in the twenty second century was successful. I was around to stop all the other ones. The last one, or kind of the first one from my perspective, I only showed up after the fact and had to help in the revolution instead. But before that, the world was doing alright. This Earth on the other hand looks like it suffered a third world war. That never happened over there."

"Yeah. Chinese blew us all to Hell," Tycho admitted. "2077 was when it happened. October 23rd to be precise. Mankind has been struggling to survive ever since, at least over here. I don't know how badly affected any of the other countries in the world are. I'm pretty sure that Canada and Mexico are in just as bad condition though."

He leaned back against the rock wall.

"Say, uh... I know it's a long shot, but is there any chance that... well... since you're a time traveller and all... might we be able to... stop it? The Great War?"

The Doctor felt a pang of sorrow.

"I doubt it," he replied. "An event that big would likely be a fixed point in time. There's no changing those."

"'Fixed point'? So... you _can _change other bits of history?"

"Eh... it's complicated."

"Well, I've got time. Explain it to me."

* * *

The following day passed without incident. The journey remained long and arduous, but they came under no further attacks from raiders, and even the mutant wildlife was scarce, though not completely absent. Tycho pointed out wasteland flora and fauna wherever they came across it, introducing the Doctor to such beautiful creatures as the bloatfly, the molerat, the radscorpion, and the majestic giant ant.

Going through the more mountainous regions didn't help. The trip remained slow and plodding, and the longer it took them to reach the Brotherhood, the more agitated the Doctor became. He wasn't quick to panic, but there really was no certainty of how long the TARDIS would last without proper maintenance.

On the third day of their journey, the Doctor voiced his concerns about their travel speed.

"Believe me, I understand," said Tycho. "This is just the way of it though. Travelling the wasteland is slow. I know we'd all like it to be otherwise, but there's no other way to get around. Now if we could find a still functioning Chryslus around here or something, then I'd gladly help you try to fix that up and we can cruise the wasteland in style. Until then though, we have to play with the hand we're dealt."

And sadly, they never did come across that Chryslus. They found a few old world roads and minor buildings and shacks along their route, but never any cars. But they did find something else that would help them though. A Brotherhood patrol.

"That's them."

Tycho passed his binoculars, and looking through them, the Doctor could see them in the distance; a group of soldiers in metal armour, gleaming in the sun.

They were built like tanks. The suits had massive shoulder guards and thick plating all over. The helmets had a tube coming out of either side and plugging into the back of armour behind them, and a light or small telescope of some kind on the right side of the helmet. The visors were small and dark, and there was no mouth on the helmet, only a circular part that might have been a speaker, or possibly an air filter.

The Brotherhood patrol team all carried blocky looking energy weapons, except for one of them who was carrying a minigun as his weapon of choice. He wasn't the only one who came armed to the teeth either. Two of the soldiers with the energy weapons also had rocket launchers strapped to their backs. They just weren't using them.

And to be fair, why would they need to? With armour like that, nobody else could even challenge them, rocket launchers or no rocket launchers.

"See why I don't wanna take chances?" asked Tycho.

The Doctor looked over to him, and saw that the ranger was busily loading his shotgun with the pulse slugs he had picked up in Killian's store. He then checked himself for the pistol as well, and loaded that with the armour piercing rounds. Just for good measure, he also put the pulse grenade in an easily accessible side pocket, just in case.

"I _really _don't think it's a good idea to go up to them with pulse weapons and armour piercing rounds. Even if you don't attack first, don't you think it'll make them uneasy to see you're carrying weapons specifically chosen to kill them?"

"Nah. How'd they be able to tell unless I start firing?"

Tycho holstered his weapons and began striding across the desert to meet the patrol. The Doctor followed after. As they approached, the men seemed to notice them, and began walking in their direction too. The two sides met halfway, with one bulky looking soldier with a laser rifle marching up to meet Tycho head on.

"You. What's your business in this territory?"

Just like Tycho when he was wearing the helmet, the patrol leader's voice was distorted and tinny, relayed through some kind of speaker rather than being heard directly as he spoke.

"On our way to Lost Hills," the ranger replied cooly. "Need to speak to someone up there. Work out a deal for some vital components we need."

"Heh. That's rich. The Brotherhood trades its goods for water and supplies from the Hub's caravan companies. We don't just barter with any random johnny who makes his way to the base. You'd better have something interesting to us if you want anything we got."

"Ahem," the Doctor said as he stepped forwards, "He's with me."

He reached into his coat and produced his psychic paper. He held it out to show the patrol leader for a moment, who cocked his head and then reached up to take it with a huge armoured hand. The man looked down at it for several minutes. Though his face was obscured, Tycho liked to think he was staring in disbelief, because that's what _he_ was doing.

"...Well, I'll be damned. I apologise, Dr. Smith. I didn't know you were acquainted with the high elder. We'd be happy to escort you the rest of the way to Lost Hills."

"Lead the way," the Doctor replied with a flourish.

The patrol leader nodded and turned back to the rest of his team.

"We're returning to base, paladins!" he barked. "Move out!"

As they began marching away, Tycho dared crack a smile. He removed his helmet to show it, silently asking the Doctor how he had done that. The time lord only winked, and walked off after the paladins, Tycho following after.

_**END.**_


End file.
